Campfire
by Mirufey
Summary: When life gives you paperwork, the obvious solution is to get drunk and roast your friends to death. TYL, crack
1. Chapter 1

**Campfire**

* * *

When Reborn suggested that they talk about their "feelings" to improve their work relations, namely sharing what was giving them deep angst, all eyes turned to Gokudera.

"But I don't have any angst," Gokudera countered a little too quickly, flushing under their scrutiny. "I really don't!"

Mukuro snorted at his poor attempt at deception. "Your entire life is full of angst," he said dismissively.

"So is yours," Gokudera retorted with a glare.

"Drink up, boys," Reborn announced, passing over another round of beer. "We have all night."

They were gathered around a campfire, free from the office and their paperwork for once, armed with marshmallows and booze. They'd even managed to drag out Hibari, who was still as antisocial as ever.

"Between Gokudera and Mukuro, I think Mukuro's had it worse," Yamamoto commented, poking a marshmallow stick into the fire. "It's hard to beat human experimentation."

They murmured in agreement and Mukuro smiled with pride whilst looking absolutely homicidal.

"A toast to Mukuro then," Reborn said, and they downed their beers in one go.

Moments later, they heard a body hit the ground. Heads turned to the dark haired male wearing a uniform jacket with a prefect armband pinned to its sleeve.

"Oh no, Kyouya's out," Mukuro deadpanned.

Lambo poked the body with a stick. "Should we barbecue him?"

"Maybe we should remove his clothes first," Mukuro mocked with glee.

Tsuna sighed. "I can't believe he still wears his school uniform. We graduated, what, five years ago?"

"I'll never forgive that bastard for beating up the Tenth!" Gokudera hissed. "Fuck middle school."

More murmurs of agreement passed around the circle.

"Too much angst?" Reborn prompted.

"Yeaaaa," Tsuna drawled.

"Yeaaaaaa," Lambo agreed.

"I was extremely angsty because nobody wanted to join the boxing club!" Ryohei yelled.

"I wonder why," Tsuna muttered.

"I wonder why," Gokudera echoed.

"I think it's because we extremely lost every match!" Ryohei wailed.

Yamamoto slung an arm over the boxer's shoulders in sympathy. "The baseball team lost most of its games too. It's okay bro, there's no need to force yourself to smile..."

"Wow, you guys suck," Lambo snickered.

Tsuna suddenly burst into tears. "I can't help but suck at everything," he sobbed. "They called me No-Good Tsuna since elementary school. I try my best but still suck!"

"I failed every maths exam back in middle school and high school," Yamamoto replied. "I'm with you."

" _Faaaailureeee buddiiieeees!_ " Tsuna moaned, hugging his friend tightly.

"You should study more," Gokudera said, rolling his eyes.

"You don't need to study coz you're a genius," Tsuna retorted.

"Yeah, what an asshole," Lambo agreed. "Everyone hates you."

"Even your precious Tenth," Mukuro added.

"Shut the fuck up, Pineapple. The Tenth doesn't hate me!"

Tsuna blinked, light-headed and his vision blurry from his third beer. "I don't?"

"Our beloved Tenth is unamused by your puppy-dog behaviour and creepy stalker antics," Mukuro added smugly.

"Oh yea, that's true," Tsuna said.

" _Saaaaavage_ ," Yamamoto drawled with a wince. "Gokudera's going to cry."

"I'm not crying!"

"Less crying, more drinking," Reborn interrupted, handing Gokudera another can of beer.

They went through their next round of drinks in silence, except Tsuna who was torn between sobbing and giggling hysterically.

"I miss my mother," Gokudera was soon mumbling, going through old family photos on his phone. "Why did she have to die?"

"Why did my mum die before I was born?" Yamamoto grieved, burying his head in his hands.

"I killed my parents," Mukuro said eerily. "And all my other relatives."

"Can you kill my dad?" Tsuna asked, clenching his fists resentfully as old memories of that bastard resurfaced.

"Kill my parents too!" Lambo implored. "They sent me across the world to kill Reborn when I was five!"

Mukuro nodded solemnly. "Of course. I'll give you two discounts due to our friendship."

Tsuna threw up his arms in celebration, accidentally dropping his beer. The can rolled into the campfire and exploded.

"Oh no, Kyouya's on fire," Tsuna said.

"Shouldn't we, um, extremely put those flames out?" Ryohei replied with concern.

"Naaaah, we haven't roasted him enough," Lambo said.

"How long do you think it'll take to cook him?" Mukuro quipped.

"Maybe we should douse him in water," Gokudera said, frowning. "It's starting to smell bad."

Ryohei grabbed a metal bucket and ran off to find water.

"Hmm, I do like Kyouya wet," Mukuro simpered.

"Mukuro, stop violating my virgin ears!" Tsuna shrieked.

Lambo stared at him in disbelief. "Are you actually a virgin though?"

" _Yes_ ," Tsuna admitted, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Cough up your money, boys," Mukuro announced. "Tsuna still hasn't popped his cherry."

"I was betting on Kyoko," Gokudera mumbled, begrudgingly pulling cash from his wallet.

"It was obviously going to be Haru!" Lambo cried.

"I was betting on Gokudera," Yamamoto said, much to the former's outrage.

Mukuro took their money, split it evenly and handed one half to Reborn.

"So, um," Tsuna began awkwardly, "Are any of you, you know, um-"

"No," Lambo said.

"Not me," Yamamoto said with a cheeky grin.

"EXTREEEEEEEME!" Ryohei returned to their camp and dumped the bucket of water over Kyouya, who jerked like a fish out of water but remained unconscious.

"I've been too busy plotting genocide," Mukuro answered Tsuna smoothly.

Lambo gaped at them in shock. "All of you, except Yamamoto and Reborn. Are you guys for real?"

"What! I-" Gokudera spluttered.

"Whether you're a virgin is uncontentious, Octopus-head, just like Kyouya and Ryohei," Lambo replied dismissively. "You're obviously saving yourself for Tsuna."

"Don't cry, Gokudera," Tsuna cooed, rubbing soothing circles down his friend's back. "Don't cry…"

"It's kinda sad you know, being one-upped by a baby in that respect," Yamamoto joked.

Reborn was all smug. "That's right, bitches."

Tsuna shot the hitman tutor a sideways glance. "Yeah, well your baby dick's not gonna please anyone," he scoffed. "Except yourself."

"Enough to get _you_ screaming, No-Good Tsuna."

Mischief glinted in Yamamoto's eyes. "Well, there are five of you. Why don't you guys partner up?"

"Five is an odd number, dumbass," Gokudera snorted.

Reborn smirked as he jumped onto Yamamoto's shoulder. "Who said it had to be in pairs?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Campfire**

* * *

What happened at the campfire stayed at the campfire. It didn't matter that half of them couldn't recall anything from that night, but for those who did - mainly those who'd pocketed all the missing cash from their wallets - even they hadn't been spared from a good roasting, so they embraced the golden rule.

"I can't hold it in anymore," Tsuna wailed one night, ripping off his stupid Gucci tie and throwing it into the flames. With a bottle of beer in hand of course, and only two nights after their first campfire gathering. This mafia life, plus Reborn, were definitely making him bid farewell to his liver.

"Then go to the toilet," Lambo deadpanned with an uninterested shrug. "We won't look."

Tsuna pinched his eyes shut and violently shook his head. "Going to the toilet is part of the problem!" he exclaimed, his voice too loud to be completely sober. "So I was waiting for the metro yesterday and needed to use the restroom but they charged me €1. In _cash_."

"Oh yeah, that's pretty weird," Yamamoto agreed. "And they don't have bidet toilet seats. It gets kinda cold in winter haha."

"Italy is extremely cold!" Ryohei added, sculling his drink and belching happily.

"It's not unusual for public toilets here to charge fees though," Gokudera explained. "Did you forget to bring cash?"

"Of course he didn't. I warned Tsuna about this before we moved to Italy," Reborn answered.

"Yeah so I had some spare change but the line was so freaking long." Tsuna attempted to demonstrate just how long with his hands, but ended up smacking Gokudera in the face. "It was like _so freaking long_ ," he repeated, dragging out the syllables for emphasis. "And the guard was standing _right there_ , giving us handwritten receipts and smoking a cigarette. What did he expect us to do with the receipt?! Use it as toilet paper?"

"Probably," Yamamoto said sheepishly, popping open another bottle. "The public toilet I used back in Venice didn't have toilet paper."

"I doubt that's a thing," Gokudera protested.

"I don't use public toilets so I dunno," Lambo replied. "Dumb tourists keep them as souvenirs I think. No big deal."

Tsuna's vision was beginning to tunnel but he wasn't done yet. He set down his beer and crossed his arms with indignation. "I had to queue up for ten minutes before I could take a shit. And when I was done the damn toilet got blocked!"

"Sounds about right," Gokudera muttered, averting his gaze. "I hope you didn't try to flush the receipt, Tenth."

Tsuna stared at him with glassy, bloodshot orbs. "Oh, I did. I very much did."

Lambo facepalmed. "That explains it."

"There was a long line after me so I would've been in a load of shit! Anyway, I realised it was the receipt's fault and _thank goodness_ the stall had toilet paper that day."

Mukuro wrinkled his nose. "This is why I avoid them," he said.

Tsuna whirled on him and narrowed his eyes. "Of course you do. Because when I left the metro, _you were right there._ "

"I had every right to be there," Mukuro replied smoothly. "I am a free man."

"What was Mukuro doing, Tsuna?" Reborn asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I was buying gelato for my sweet Chrome," was the innocent reply.

"Bullshit. I personally assigned Chrome on an overseas mission last week," Gokudera cut in. "Otherwise she'd be here to testify."

"I'm extremely confused!" Ryohei shouted, before tossing everyone another round of drinks. There were more to go around this time, because Kyouya had conveniently taken up a mission in Japan and was no longer contactable.

"So what was Mukuro doing?" Yamamoto asked with a giggle.

"Have a drink, Tsuna," Reborn said, personally popping open Tsuna's beer. "Now _talk_."

"I was just minding my own business," Mukuro re-asserted. "It's nothing of your concern."

"Pineapple, if you were doing anything inappropriate in the Tenth's presence-"

"Perhaps you mistook someone else for me?" Mukuro interrupted sweetly. "I'll forgive you this time, my beloved boss and friends, but it is not wise to jump to conclusions."

"You were _definitely_ there, Mukuro!" Tsuna shouted at him angrily. "I saw you! You were right there, with your dick out, pissing on the side of the street!"

"Yeah?" Lambo questioned. "So?"

Tsuna pulled at his hair. He was going to become bald at this rate. The thought made him almost cry. "Why aren't you guys shocked?!"

Lambo shrugged. "Well, it's like pissing in a pool. Everybody does it. What's the big deal?"

" _What do you mean "What's the big deal"?!_ " Tsuna spluttered. "It's. Just. _Wrong!_ "

"Was he well-endowed though?" Yamamoto asked seriously.

"Hell no. He was tiny."

Lambo jumped up from his log. "Aha! I knew it!" he announced, clinking glass with Yamamoto. " _That's_ the reason why Mukuro's still a virgin!"

There were murmurs of agreement within the circle. "Oooh," Yamamoto said cheekily. "Good thing Kyouya's not here. He'd be sooo disappointed."

"It would be a problem if a Vongola Guardian is caught pissing on the street," Reborn pointed out in Tsuna's defence. "This is unacceptable."

"Small dick included?" Lambo snickered.

There was a puff of indigo mist, and Mukuro vanished in shame.

"So um, no offence guys, but Japan is clearly superior to Italy in like, every way," Tsuna said with a huff. "This country is so backwards and doesn't even run. And for goodness' sake, if I ever catch you guys pissing on the streets-"

"This is why your job as Vongola Decimo is so important," Reborn said smugly. "It will be your job to fix Italy's poor administration."

"Hey, it's disrespectful saying that about another country," Yamamoto protested. "We've only been here for about two weeks."

"And we're fucked if we stay here any longer," Tsuna mumbled, hugging Gokudera tightly and burying his face into his shoulder. "I just want to go home. We're going to die from waiting here, guys, whether it's in a queue or waiting for our videos to stop buffering. Or we'll die from paperwork!"

"Oh yeah, about the internet - the post office told me to pay for my internet bill via post. Did I hear wrong?" Yamamoto asked.

"Yeaaaaaah about that-" Lambo started.

"...I concede that Japan is more efficient in _some_ aspects," Gokudera finished.

"We're doomed," Tsuna moaned, downing the last of his beer before passing out on his right hand man's lap.

"I extremely waited at the bank for two hours to get some cash yesterday," Ryohei suddenly said. "When I got to the front of the line the teller told me the bank was extremely closed because it was lunch time!"

"Did you play the Vongola card?" Lambo asked. "Or try to seduce the teller?"

Ryohei blinked at him. "Eh? I don't speak Italian so I extremely waited like everyone else! Good things happen to those who wait!"

"We could definitely improve on our country's efficiency," Gokudera acquiesced, rubbing his temples.

"Hey guys, Squalo just texted!" Yamamoto piped in. "We should invite him to our campfire!"

"Not a good idea," Gokudera said immediately, all colour draining from his expression. "I'm getting tired of him wreaking havoc in the Vongola Mansion because you've pissed him off. The paperwork is not worth the pay."

Hurt crossed Yamamoto's features. "Why would he want to beat me up? I'm going to call him and demand an explanation!"

"Not a good idea," Gokudera repeated. "Besides, how are you going to get a signal out here in the middle of nowhere?"

"I had Shouichi hack the satellites! And Squalo's phone." Realisation dawned upon Yamamoto. "Oh. _The ringtone_. That's why he's pissed haha. Oh fuck I pressed the call button - I can't see coz my vision's all blurry-"

" _Baby shark_ _doo doo doo doo doo doo~_ "

" _VOOOOOOOOOOOI!_ "

Yamamoto leapt up from his log so fast he tripped on his laces and landed face-first onto the dirt. "Shit. I think wet myself," he muttered, scrunching up his face with shame when the ground felt unpleasantly moist on his skin.

"He's gone," Reborn announced, passing the last beers to Lambo, Gokudera and Ryohei. "Drink up, boys." He held up the fourth one. "And Mukuro, you can come out now."

With an eerie chuckle, their blue haired Mist Guardian slowly re-emerged from the fog, revealing him sitting cross-legged on a tree branch. There was a pair of speakers beside him. "Oya oya," he drawled, tilting his head with devilish amusement. " _Now_ who's pissing out in public?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Campfire**

* * *

"I got insulted by a kid today," Tsuna began conversationally, eager to spill the next installment of his adulting woes. "I was out running errands this morning and a ten year old came up to me and told me I'm the shortest man he's ever seen. As an Asian, I feel personally attacked."

Yamamoto and Ryohei exchanged a fleeting glance, which Tsuna caught.

"I'm not short!" Tsuna insisted, crossing his arms angrily. His drink spilled over his bougie Egyptian cotton shirt, which looked like any other white collared shirt. "You guys are just too tall. And frankly, I'm getting _quite tired_ of everyone thinking Yamamoto is Vongola Decimo because he's the taller Asian!"

"They do say shorter people are closer to hell," Mukuro remarked, smirking eerily. He crossed and uncrossed his longer legs slowly to mock the brunet. The leather pants and thigh high hooker boots made it so much worse. " _Kufufufu, how terrifying_."

"Yeah, and you're the closest to hell because of your short dick," Tsuna shot back hotly. He ripped off his soaked shirt and tossed it into the fire. "Go fuck yourself, Mukuro."

"Oya? Is our beloved boss asking for a private show?"

Lambo quickly snatched Gokudera's bottle before it turned into a spray of glass on the ground. "Woah woah, calm down buddy," he said to the other man, setting him back onto the log. "He's joking."

Then something evil glinted in Reborn's devilish onyx eyes. "Hell is a wonderful place," he said proudly, passing over the next round of drinks. "You should take it as a compliment, Tsuna."

"Yeah? Well then the kid asked his mother why Asians are so short. And whether it was because they ate cats and dogs." Tsuna glared at the crackling flames and skulled his fifth beer. "What a racist. I don't eat pets. I'm a fucking herbivore. Isn't that right, Kyouya?"

"That's Yamamoto," Lambo answered, following Tsuna's fiery gaze to the other male. Kyouya was still refusing to partake in their merry liver-slaughtering adventures. Yamamoto, on the other hand, lived and breathed alcohol. "Now _you're_ being racist, Tsuna."

"And you're short because you're lactose intolerant and don't drink milk," Mukuro added snidely.

"You don't need to drink milk to grow tall," Gokudera argued. "But water in Italy does have higher traces of calcium than in Japan."

"Milk tastes good," Yamamoto said happily. "One of these days I want to try Baileys. Or Yakult in soju. Hey, we should get some next time and write it off under general office experiences. You know, since self-medication is like, essential when it comes to paperwork."

"No thank you," Gokudera replied, taking his vodka back from Lambo. "I'm vegan."

Heads turned to the Vongola's self-proclaimed right hand man. "You're what?" Yamamoto asked, gobsmacked.

"Like you can only drink water and absorb sunlight?" Tsuna questioned with a raised eyebrow.

"That's a vegetable, Tenth," Gokudera answered with a pained look. "Vegans don't eat or use animal products. Like milk."

"Isn't that extremely worse than being a herbivore?" Ryohei was extremely confused. "Level five vegans don't eat anything that casts a shadow."

"I gain weight really easily," Gokudera confessed, his cheeks glowing. "When I was a kid, I was morbidly obese because Bianchi's cooking was simply _divine_. Now my metabolism is slowing down because I'm ageing and it's getting near impossible for me to stay in shape, even with rigorous training."

"I remember this," Reborn confirmed. "Gokudera would rebel against his father by bingeing on junk food and not exercising. It was only when he ran away and got beaten to pulp when he realised there was a problem."

"Wow...that's actually really inspiring," Tsuna said, his jaw dropping. Gokudera always had a badass body, complete with an eight-pack and terrifying biceps. Tsuna suddenly regretted removing his shirt. Reborn's strict training regime had packed some muscle into him, but he was still scrawny in comparison - even the Vongola's experienced tailors found his proportions nightmarish to work with.

"The only six-pack I need is a six-pack of beer," Yamamoto drawled. He examined the label of the brown bottle under the firelight. "Woah, this stuff is actually vegan approved. It must be healthy then."

"I lowkey think Reborn's turning us into alcoholics," Tsuna complained. His hitman tutor merely smiled, completely unrepentant. "We're not even drinking the fancy Italian wines and cocktails. We're like college students drinking for the sake of getting drunk."

"Fuck paperwork," Yamamoto murmured.

"Fuck work," Lambo corrected.

There were hums of agreement from the rest of the circle as they drank their vegan beer and vodka, feeling very healthy and zen.

"Anyway I'm not short," Tsuna huffed a moment later. After seven drinks, he was finally feeling a buzz. Drinking everyday did wonders to his alcohol tolerance. "I'm taller than Bermuda. We've all seen his adult form. I still don't get how his anatomy works, by the way."

"The guy looks like some edgy kid still stuck in his emo phase," Gokudera muttered. "Black, chains, cuffs and studs? Been there, done that. Glad it's all in the past."

"I wonder what he does at Vendicare," Tsuna added with a shiver. "He probably fucks zombies."

"Kinky," Lambo said.

"What the heck, can zombies even consent to being fucked?" Yamamoto asked.

Mukuro gave him an unimpressed stare. "Did Chrome and I ever consent to being experimented on?"

Tsuna felt bad for him and gave him a bottle of vodka. "Nothing happens in Vendicare though. All the prisoners are unconscious and trapped in solitary water tanks. The Vindice are like zombies. But can Bermuda he even get his dick hard? No offence, but he's pretty ancient - it's probably shrivelled down there."

"I'd rather not know, Tenth. I'm getting some horrifying images in my head."

"Maybe the chains and bandages turns him on. It's a thing," Lambo explained. " _Oh daddy_ , maybe they even have a guard/prisoner roleplay going on in the dungeons."

"Kinky," Mukuro snickered. He had turned a shade of green, but it was concealed by the orange glow of flames. "Well they do have to pass the time somehow."

"It's also freezing down there so they'd be exchanging body heat," Yamamoto added with a cheeky grin. "All of them together. At the same time."

"Oh my god, shut the fuck up Yamamoto," Tsuna said, now completely red. Nobody could tell whether it was from embarrassment or his Asian glow. It was probably both. "We really don't need to know."

"I hope they use protection because infections suck," Lambo continued, making a face. "I can't even imagine what zombie STIs are like."

"Sounds extremely painful," Ryohei agreed. "Always use protection. And a lot of lube."

"Especially a lot of lube," Lambo said. "Dead bodies don't self-lubricate."

Suddenly the air dropped in temperature, and the brilliant flames of the campfire dulled as if it had been doused in water. Dramatic, ominous silence descended. A bandaged baby in a black cloak and top hat rose from the glowing embers, glaring at them with yellow lizard eyes.

" _ **I do not fuck zombies**_ ," Bermuda hissed, his voice echoing inside their heads like microphone feedback. With a snarl, balls of black flame engulfed his hands and the logs they had been sitting on disintegrated into ash. Every bottle shattered. Then he vanished, leaving nothing but an edgy black feather boa on the ground.

"Guys, I think we made him angry," Yamamoto whispered from his hiding position behind Gokudera's back.

"Shouldn't he be burning?" Ryohei asked, blinking uncomprehendingly at the dying campfire. "He was standing on top of fire."

"He's a zombie," Gokudera replied, stating the obvious. "He's already dead."

"Urgh, I think I'm going to throw up," Mukuro muttered, before disappearing into a poof of mist flames. Violent retching could be heard by a tree a few metres away. Confused eyes followed him - none of them were even remotely close to being drunk, and Bermuda had ruined the rest of their booze stash.

"Mukuro's been to Vendicare," Reborn pointed out. "He might know a thing or two about Bermuda's...activities. He might have even witnessed it."

"Oh. _Oh God_." Lambo said, facepalming. "I need another five bottles of vodka before I can get that image out of my mind."

There was a loud thud of someone hitting the ground. Tsuna had dropped to his knees, staring tearfully at the remains of their glorious campfire. "Oh noooooo," he wailed in despair. He clawed their initials into the ashes, in memory of all those blissfully drunken moments they'd shared together at this sacred place. He broke into sobs as his friends spared a moment of solemn silence. "Where are we supposed to rant about our woes now?"


End file.
